Simon Says
by Aiyanabell
Summary: FBI agent Samantha Manson is being tormented by one of the criminals they are trying to catch. This Phsycopathic Serial Killer has no fear of getting caught, and has invited her into a twisted little game......[Full Summary inside]
1. Before The Beginning

**Authors Note: This is my very first Fanfiction...please be merciful.**

**The first few chapters won't be so eventful, so I'll have them up pretty quick. Don't worry about that. If you review, not only will I love you forever, but you will give me motivation to carry on with the story and get to the good part! **

**Disclaimer- I got many ideas from several different "Cop" Shows, including: CSI, Cold Case, Without A Trace, Monk, Sue Thomas FBI. I own none of them, and I do not own Danny Phantom.**

* * *

My name is Samantha Manson, and I am an agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, more commonly known as the FBI. 

The story I'm about to tell you is pretty long...but since your willingly taking time out of your day to sit on your ass and read stories like this, I guess you won't really mind. (I...probably shouldn't have wrote that...you never know who reads these things.) The difference between this story and all the others, however, is this story is true. It actually happened. To me.

Anyway, I really don't know where to start...I guess I'll start at the beginning. No...I'll start before the beginning. Before I ever stepped foot in Amity Park.

"Manson! In my office!" A particularly annoying voice called. I grumbled under my breath as I stood up from my desk and trudged down the hall to Mervin Randal's Office. Mervin, or should I say, 'Mr. Randal', was a short bald man with a nasally voice and a love for making everybody's lives as difficult as possible. He was our Unit Adviser, meaning he took care of all 'Behind the Scenes' Issues of our cases...like paperwork. But mostly he just ordered us around to make him coffee. (I'm rolling my eyes.)

"Manson, we're transferring you to the bureau in Amity Park." He said, before I had even completely made my way into the room. I looked to him in confusion. "Where's That?" I asked, inviting myself to sit down in a chair. His expression did not change. "It's a town in Colorado."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "You're transferring me from New York City, the city of all cities, to a little hick town in Colorado?" He shook his head. "Amity Park is not a little hick town. It's actually quite a large city, and is quite famous for having several... ghost attacks."

I threw my hands up into the air. "Well this is just great...Over here, my unit members will be carrying out investigations on murders and terrorism...and I'll be in Colorado, issuing a warrant of arrest for Casper, the not-so-friendly ghost."

Mervin looked as if he couldn't care less. "I'm afraid you have no choice, It's either accept the transfer or be dropped from the bureau."

I Sighed, rubbing the temples of my head with my fingers.. "I...guess I'm going to Amity Park."


	2. The Amity Park Bureau

**Authors Note: So...I'm continuing with the story, hoping to make it a little more interesting.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom, and I do not own any Cop Shows that I get ideas from.**

**-Throws Confetti- Special...no...SUPER SPECIAL thanks to Lightning Streak, my first reviewer of my first fanfiction ever. -Gives Cookie.-**

* * *

About a week later, I was on a plane to Amity Park. The flight was long, boring, and uneventful...and I don't even see the need of telling you about it...I'd just put you to sleep. 

I exited the gate about four hours later, my carry-on-bag over my shoulder. I stretched out my legs, which felt good, sitting in one place for too long can be really uncomfortable. After a few moments of searching, I found a man in a drivers uniform holding up a sign labeled 'Manson.' and walked over to him.

"Hello...I'm Sam Manson." I said, offering him a thank you as he took my rolling suitcase for me and lead me out to the parking lot. There was a car waiting for us there, and he placed the bag in the trunk. He climbed into the drivers seat, and I opened the passenger door and took my seat as well.

"Where to, Miss?" He asked me, checking his rearview mirror to make sure the area was clear. He had a strong Australian accent as he spoke, and it was almost difficult for me to understand him.

"1601 Specterville lane." I answered, buckling my seat belt. He nodded.

"That's the FBI's Address...are you one of the witnesses they're flying in from Australia?...that's where I'm from, you know." I shook my head, not even aware of any witnesses at all...and also very surprised that this driver knew of classified FBI information. I brushed it aside, making a mental note to ask someone at the Bureau about it later.

"No...I'm an Agent. They transferred me to Amity." He nodded again as we pulled out of the Airports parking lot.

The car ride from there was pretty uneventful...the driver started talking (In great detail) about life in the outback, and after about five minutes, I stopped listening. Fifteen minutes later, the car pulled up to a tall brick building, which I assume was the FBI's headquarters. He helped me with my bags and I paid him, and he had soon driven off.

There was an African American man waiting for me at the front door. He seemed to be sort of a nerd, with thick rimmed glasses and a PDA in his hand.

"Are you Samantha Manson?" He asked. I nodded my reply nodded my reply.

"Sam. Call me Samantha again and you die." Okay, not the way to greet someone you just met, but he seemed to realize I was joking and let out a light laugh. He then noticed I had my luggage with me and looked at me strangely.

"Did you come straight from the airport?" I nodded again.

"There wasn't any time to stop by the apartment to drop them off. They said they wanted me here at noon...It's noon." The FBI in New York City had found an apartment for rent in Amity Park about a day after I agreed to the transfer, and I was able to purchase it without ever stepping foot in it...

oh the joy of working for the FBI.

The man helped me with my bags, turning to look at me again.

"I'm sorry, I seemed to have forgotten an introduction. My name is Tucker Foley...I'm in your unit and I was sent down to greet you." He looked me over again, smiling a jokingly-flirtatious smile at me.

"But the ladies call me Friar Tuck." I rolled my eyes.

"Okay..._Tucker_, you do know that Friars aren't aloud to date, right?" Tucker's eyes widened. "What? I'm gonna have to get a new nick name." I shook my head at him with a smile, not saying anything.

We walked down the hallway, passing several people who stopped to acknowledge Tucker. "Wow...Someone's popular." I observed. He shrugged.

"Our unit tends to solve the majority of cases here...We've got a variety of people with different skills, and it balances every one out...because of this, everyone knows our unit, and everyone in it. You'll probably be just as well known within the week." I made a face.

"Joy..."

We made it to the elevator, and Tucker pushed the button to summon it. It was already on this floor, so it opened up right away. We went inside, and he pressed the button for floor 8. We waited for our floor in complete silence. The elevator was slow, it seemed to take forever to get to the designated floor. To make matters worse...that annoying elevator music was playing...you know, the kind of music that makes awkward situations seem even more awkward? Yeah.

We finally reached the eighth floor, and we exited the elevator, still not saying anything. I prayed that things between me and the other unit members would be much less awkward.

Tucker opened the door to our Units room, offering me a smile. Once I finally saw it, I let out a quiet sigh of relief. The room didn't look all that different from my old unit headquarters in New York. It was spacious, but still had a warm kind of feel, with several desks set up in different spots around the room. I immediately spotted an empty desk and made my way towards it, placing my bags down next to it.

"You must be Samantha." A female voice said, causing me to turn around. I nodded, taking the hand she offered me and shaking it. She was an attractive African American woman who looked about my age. "Yes, but it's Sam, please." I replied, deciding to take the polite approach this time. She smiled. "Okay Sam, I'm Valerie." I nodded, looking around the room.

Valerie seemed to notice I felt a little lost, and spoke up again. "Let me introduce you to your other unit members. You've already met Tucker..." She called over everybody in the room, and they obeyed, walking towards us. She motioned to a tall man who was definitely older, looking to be in his mid forties. "This is Charlie Bennet." Charlie held out a hand and I shook it, nodding my head in greeting. She turned to woman who looked a couple years older than we were. "This is Tara Cardwell." I shook her hand as well. She finally turned to the last member of our team, and my eyes widened slightly. Thankfully, I was able to return my expression to a mostly emotionless one. The man Valerie was now introducing me to stood at a decent height. He was very well built..and his muscles were visible through his button down shirt...not that I was looking. His hair was jet black, and his eyes were an intense icy blue.

"And..this is Danny Fenton." I extended my hand to shake his, and actually brought myself to speak...as if I was trying to prove to myself that I can't be affected by a mans physical appearance...no matter how impressive it was.

"Nice to meet you Danny." I said, successfully maintaining a casual tone. Though inside, I felt really strange. Something told me things just got _much_ more complicated.

* * *

**Aiiee...This chapter was longer, but it wasn't exactly long...and it wasboring, and pretty uneventful other than the fact that Danny, Tucker, and Valerie were introduced. Iwarned you about the first few chapters...once "Simon" Comes into play, It'll be much more interesting...promise. Yes, I do plan on putting in a little DxS somewhere in the story...but that's not the main plot line of this fic. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review, give me as much constructive criticism as you feel necessary, and you'll earn your way into the next chapters Authors Note. **


	3. A Serial Killer

**Authors Note: Thanks So much to all of my reviewers! I'm exited that so many of you find the plot line interesting. Ahah! I'm introducing Simon in this Chapter! **

**Special thanks to: **

**Lightning Streak, Rose Garden Twilight, CharmedNightSky, RealityBreakGirl, Shades-Of-Pink for the reviews. I expected way less than this, so I'm really happy. You are all amazing.**

**Warning: This chapter, and future chapters may grow to be more intense, as we are dealing with a story about a psychopathic killer. **

**Disclaimer: Same as before. I do not own Danny Phantom, and do not own any Cop Shows...Sue Thomas FBI in particular.**

And so, I spent the next couple of weeks with my new team, Just trying to get a feel for the way things worked in Amity Park. On the most part I was simply obtaining information needed to solve the cases, rather than actually investigating them. It went like that for a while, and I felt that I was really starting to get a hang of it.

It was an average Wednesday afternoon, I was filling out some paperwork on our team's last arrest, Charlie was making coffee, Tara was working on some reports, and Tucker was playing a game on his PDA...Danny and Valerie, however, had excused themselves from Unit Headquarters and had been gone for about an hour.

I turned to the television in the corner of the room, deciding to watch the news while I worked. There was a Korean woman speaking to the camera in front of an old brick building.

"As we speak, Amity's very own Phantom is currently in the middle of a heated battle with the mysterious masked ghost hunter. This should prove to be--"

I clicked the remote, turning the television off. Amity's 'ghost' issues didn't really interest me.

For the next half hour I finished up on my reports,.

I stood up as I stapled all of my paperwork together, walking down the hall on plopping it on my unit advisors desk. She raised an eyebrow at me, nodding her head in approval. "

I'm impressed, you always seem to be able to get your work in early. You're becoming quite an asset for the Bureau." I shrugged, managing a small smile.

"It's not like school...for this, I have motivation. It's called a paycheck." She laughed at this, nodding her head to signify that I was allowed to leave.

When I returned back to the room, Valerie had already returned. She looked exhausted, and I couldn't help but wonder where she had gone to make her so tired. However, she didn't seem to let her fatigue get her down and turned to her work. In another few minutes Danny returned, looking equally exhausted. Valerie looked up from her paper, quirking an eyebrow.

"And where have you been?" She asked, even though it seemed that everyone else was about to ask her the same question.

Danny smiled sheepishly.

"Uh...bathroom."

I rolled my eyes along with everybody else in the room. Valerie opened her mouth to reply, but was silenced by a the shrill ring of the telephone on Danny's desk.

"Unit 145, Fenton here." He said. His expression changed from exhausted to serious as he listened, and we watched him in silence.

"We're on it." he said into the receiver before hanging up.

"They're putting us on case 441, there's been another murder."

My eyes widened. I knew that case number...I had just read about it in the FBI's case files earlier that day. A serial killer had just committed his fourth murder.

* * *

An hour later I stood at the crime scene, talking to one of the detectives already there. We were outside on the deck of a comfortable suburban home, where the woman was murdered. 

"She died of strangulation, just like the other three murders in the past month. The body was definitely moved..." The deceased woman was positioned in one of the deck chairs, her arms crossed in front of her chest as if she was hugging herself from the cold. A decorative scarf was tied loosely around her neck...just like the three other dead women. I shook my head sadly, turning to Danny with a somewhat pained expression, not even able to speak. I had investigated murders before, but there was something about this particular case that was making my blood run cold.

I looked over to see a man in his late sixties sitting on a wooden bench, not far from the actual crime scene. He had definitely been crying, and was now doing nothing but staring blankly at his shoes. The detective followed my gaze and took the liberty of explaining.

"Thomas McMullan. The victims father." was all he said. I nodded solemnly, turning back to the crime scene. Almost directly after I did so, however, Danny started off in the direction of the grieving man. "Hey! This is a restricted area!" he called angrily

I whirled around, about to yell at him for reprimanding a man who had definite clearance to be there...And then I saw that he was yelling, not at the Mr. McMullan, but at a man with a camera, attempting to take pictures of him, even though he was refusing quite clearly. I was appalled. A man has just lost his daughter, and half a second later he's having a camera shoved up in his face. I stormed over there as well.

"You heard the man, this is an investigation, leave or you will be escorted from the premises."

The Paparazzi guy continued taking pictures, but had moved his area of focus to Danny and I, who were attempting to get him away.

"This is the fourth murder of this month! How many more have to die before you catch this guy?" He asked as he continued snapping photos.

"We'll catch him, and without your help!" I practically shouted. And he stopped with the camera clicking, turning on his heal and leaving. I sighed, brushing an ebony hair away from my face before turning back to the crime scene.

* * *

I sat at my desk back at FBI headquarters early the next morning, tapping my pen against my desk as I thought hard. This case was pretty intense, and there was a lot of pressure on us to solve it brfore another murder occurred. 

"Well..." I said, placing the pen down and looking up at the group.

"Serial killers always have a motive, an obsession...There's always a link between the victims, In the way they're killed, or things they did when they were alive." The group nodded in agreement, and Charlie was the next to speak.

"Like back in the '80's, a serial killer murdered ten college women with long brown hair after his college girlfriend, a brunette, broke up with him. The killer is in some kind of fantasy...and want's to relive it again and again."

Valerie nodded, going through a bunch of files on her desk.

"So let's find out how the victims are linked, and that might give us a lead."

Danny stood up, moving to the whiteboard across the room, where photos of all four victims and all four crime scenes were taped up. He picked up a file folder from his desk, shifting through it. "The victims were all moved into peculiar after their time of death, but no position is the same. All four women died of strangulation...and the murder weapons were always left at the crime scene...tied around their necks in a decorative fashion. The scarves are all different brands...different colors. All victims were found wearing no makeup or cosmetics."

Tara nodded, standing up and walking to the blackboard as well. "And was there any link between the women when they were alive?

Tucker whipped out his PDA at lightning speed.

"I ran background checks on all four victims. None of them knew each other. There really is no link between them other than the fact that all of them had successful careers.

One was a lawyer, another a successful doctor, the third owned her own business, and the most recent was a journalist for Runway Magazine."

I pondered this, picking up the pen again and starting to tap it on the desk again.

"Somewhere in all that information is a clue that will help us figure it all out...we just need to find it."

Just then, our unit advisor stormed in, dropping a newspaper on my desk.

"You should be proud of yourself, Manson. You've been here three weeks and you've already made the front page." I looked at her in confusion.

"What?" Picking up the newspaper, I read it as everyone crowded around to see. My eyes widened as I read the headline.

"_FBI Agent Vows to catch killer."_

Valerie grabbed the paper from me, starting to read aloud.

"After the fourth murder in a series of serial killings, Samantha Manson, a local FBI agent, vows to catch the culprit if it was the last thing she ever did..." She trailed off, not even having to continue. My eyes narrowed in anger. That reporter at the crime scene had taken my scoldings and molded them into a front page story.

I jumped slightly as the shrill sound of the telephone filled my ears. I lifted up the receiver briefly and hit the speaker phone button. "Unit 145, Manson Here."

At first there was silence, and there was nothing audible on the other line except a persons slow breathing.

"Hello Samantha." a sinister voice greeting me. It was a dark, cold voice that turned my blood to ice. I glanced around at my team members, who seemed to be feeling the same thing that I was.

"May I ask who's calling?" I asked, keeping my tone of voice level.

The man on the other line chuckled darkly before speaking yet again.

"I'm the one you _vowed to catch._"

**Dun Dun Dun...Please review, and I will always welcome constructive criticism...I'm learning to be a better writer. Thanks to my reviewers!**


	4. I could be next

**Authors note: Hey Everybody! I'm exited that so many people are interested in this fic!**

**Special thanks to my reviewers: **

**Look for the girl with the broken smile, Robert Teague, loop-de-loop-ride, RealityBreakGirl, CharmedNightSkye, Rose Garden Twilight, Tuckers Mayflower, Black-Rose23. **

**You are all completely fantabulous! **

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.

* * *

My eyes widened as I heard this. I was very glad the phone was on speaker, because if it wasn't I'm sure I would have dropped it. After a few more moments of stunned silence, I managed to speak, falling back into my confidant nature...though in reality it was just a mask...a serial killer was talking to me on the phone! Wouldn't you be freaking out? 

I remembered what I had read earlier that day about serial killers, and I kept that in mind before I spoke.

'_If a Serial Killer knows his victim is afraid, it will only entice him more...he or she will only become more excited if they know they are inflicting fear on the person they are trying to hurt...In a killers mind, it's all about power...'_

So I wouldn't let him know that my internal organs were attempting to turn themselves inside out. I put on a mask of confidence and brought myself to speak at an even tone.

"Calling the FBI's headquarters and openly admitting to being a killer...that's very smart of you." My confidant air was completely shattered at the sound of his sinister laugh, however. This guy was really good at knowing how to play with a persons mind.

"I have no fear of getting caught, Samantha, because I know that it will never happen." I didn't reply. There was no need for me to.

"You see, Samantha, deep down I'm a fun guy, I like to play games just like everybody else. In fact, I'd like to invite you to play a game with me...How about a little game of Simon Says?"

If said by any other person, It would have seemed casual, maybe a bit strange. But this man said it in such a dark, evil way that it made me, a dark-loving person, feel very, very afraid...and all he had done was invite me to play a child's nursery game!

He continued speaking.

"I'm sure you've played this game before. I say what to do, and you do it. Of course, I'm going to have to lay down the rules first..."

This man was insane! Was he asking me to play a part in some twisted game?

"Rule number one: This is between you and I. Tell the other agents listening in on this call to back off. Now." I shot them a helpless glance and lifted the receiver to my ear, ending the speaker phone.

"They're gone." I managed to say. I looked over at tucker, who had plugged his PDA into the base of the phone and was attempting to trace it using some fancy technology I would never be able to understand.

"Good. I'll be in touch." and with that, I was left with nothing but the dial tone.

I put the phone down, looking to my unit members with wide eyes. "He said he'd be in touch." I said, staring blankly at the phone. My mind was still trying to process what just happened. "This game he want's me to play...I need to do it." I said, standing up and brushing off my black pants...more out of habit than them actually needing to be brushed off. Danny was the first one to protest this.

"No. You'd be putting yourself in direct danger." I shook my head in protest.

"This might be our only way of figuring out who he is! I need to do this."

Danny turned to the other team members in search of backup, but it seemed that the others couldn't make up their minds either. Our Unit Adviser, Emma O'Connell, nodded in my direction.

"She's right, Danny. Four people have died, and if we don't do anything about it, more will die as well."

I nodded. This was something that needed to be done.

* * *

Later that night, I was sitting in my apartment with Valerie...Or should I say, our apartment. It turns out that buying a house you've never stepped foot in _isn't a good idea_. It turned out that 'in need of improvement.' meant 'too much damage to ever possibly hope to improve' It was a complete disaster. Valerie had a very nice apartment with an extra bedroom she was using for storage. She offered that I joined her in her apartment as her room mate. We came to terms on it, and in end both of us ended up happy...She paid half of the rent, and I paid the other. It was working out great so far. 

Woah...I started ranting...Anyways.

I thanked Valerie as she handed me a cup of tea. She sat down next to me with her own cup, taking a sip. We didn't say anything, but I knew we were thinking the same thing...about earlier that day. Unable to bear it any more, I stood up.

"I'm going to go take a shower."

I turned and walked down the hall, entering the bathroom and shutting the door behind me. Today had been extremely stressful. After being contacted by the killer of four women, I couldn't help but keep a chilling thought from my mind. _'I might be next...'_

I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run over me, trying to wash my bad thoughts away. Only the water was falling in an odd direction so that it was hitting the shower curtain instead of me. I reached up to adjust the shower head, and as I did so the head came right off into my hands. I looked down at it in surprise, and then the immense flooding began. It sprayed from the pipe, now not having a proper head to slow down the water flow. I jumped from the shower, pulling on my robe and running out of the hall. "Valerie!" I shouted. "Something weird just happened with the pipe!"

There had been no way to stop the water from pouring out, so we ended up having to shut the water off in our entire apartment.

"..look's like we'll be showering at the gym tomorrow." Valerie said, plopping back down on the couch. I sighed. "I have no idea how that happened...I'll pay for the-" Valerie cut me off

"The shower head was freaking out for months now, it wasn't your fault."

I nodded slowly, sitting down next to her, fiddling with the drawstring of my black and purple pajama pants. Yes, my love for dark colors hadn't changed since highschool...and I admit I still wear my combat boots from time to time...

God, what is it with me ranting about anything and everything when it pops into my head! I'm going to need to seek professional help about that...but that might cost too much money and I-

...I'm doing it again, aren't I.

I'll stop now. It was late...both Valerie and I had a very long day, and we finally both just curled up into a ball and fell asleep.

**Gah...Okay, I know the second half of this chapter was boring, but there's a reason that the shower head broke, okay? Trust me. It's coming to play in later chapters. PLEASE review...as much as I love this story, you readers are my motivation...and I love constructive criticism...I'm trying to learn how to be a better writer! Until the next chapter,**

**Aiyanabell. **


	5. It Completed the Fantasy

**Authors note: This is so exiting! The plot thickens with every chapter, and apparently you people love that! My reviewers are so awesome. Thank you reviewers:**

**SaveDanny69, look for the girl with the broken smile, lindy12, Black-Rose23, OrangeJuice101. **

**Super Special thanks to two reviewers who have reviewed for this story multiple times, given me great writing tips and advice, and really made me smile while reading their reviews:**

**Tuckers Mayflower and RealityBreakGirl. You both are awesome and I love you all. And if I knew where you two lived I would send you guys chocolate. -throws confetti -**

**And I hope you guys like this one: I'm turning this story into the first of a series based on the Amity Park FBI and the cases that unit 145 solves. How does that sound? I've already got ideas for future cases!**

**I am looking for a super sweet name for this series, but can't come up with something cool enough. At first I was just going to call it 'Unit 145.' but that's lammmmmmmeeeee. So, I will give cookies, kudos, and super credit to someone who helps me think up a cool name. Kays? Thanks so much!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom. **

Valerie and I stepped into the FBI headquarters sometime after 8:30 AM the next day.

"Your late." Tucker, Danny, and Charlie practically sang at once as we entered. We rolled our eyes.

"We had to shower at the gym today...we had some plumbing issues with the shower yesterday." Danny raised his eyebrow at us. I sighed.

"The showerhead came off in my hands...major flood." They all made sounds resembling "Ah." and looked back down to their work.

I sighed, moving to my desk and shifting through files on case 441: the Serial Killer case. After a couple minutes, I gasped and stood up.

"That's it!" I cried, causing everybody else to look up.

I moved to the whiteboard, re-taping the pictures of all the victims.

"You know how you said that Serial Killers always have a fantasy they need to be fulfilled, and their killings reflect that fantasy?" They all nodded blankly, unsure of where I was going with this.

"Well, all women were successful, right?" I can't believe they weren't getting this! They nodded again.

"So successful women are the target...his fantasy is putting women back where they belong...not working, not earning money. They were found without cosmetics or jewelry...but what kind of successful women doesn't wear makeup and earnings to work.?"

The team was finally beginning to catch on.

"So his motivation for killing...is putting women in their place..." Tucker said, taking out his PDA and writing down some more notes.

I nodded.

"In what he _thinks_ in their place."

"So what we need to do, is get inside this killer's head...and think the way the killer thinks...that will eventually lead us to catching him."

It was finally lunch time, and Danny, Tucker and I were down in the cafeteria. I pulled a vegan energy bar from my purse and took a bite, looking at Tucker with disgust as he ordered meatloaf with ham and turkey on the side.

Trying to ignore how repulsed I was by the Techno-geek's meat eating, I looked down at some of the files on the desk. "We should go back to the crime scene tonight." I said to Danny. He nodded, pulling a couple pictures of the victims over in his direction from across the table.

"Whaabouddascarves" He said, his mouth full of food so I couldn't understand him.

"Excuse me?" I asked him.

"The Scarves...they're all different types of scarves, but there has got to be a reason he ties them around their necks..."

I shrugged.

"They're the murder weapons...Afterwards he ties them around their necks decoratively...maybe it adds to the fantasy?" He shook his head.

"There's something else..." He said, turning to Tucker.

"Tuck...do a background check on the scarves around the victims neck." Tuck nodded, immediately pulling out his PDA and starting a database search. My eyebrows rose.

"Can he do everything with that PDA of his?" Danny nodded.

"...Pretty much."

I shook my head with what one might call a smile. Less than two minutes later, Tucker had turned to Danny and I with the information we had asked for.

"The scarves origin are all different...Coming from France, Italy, Spain, and England. Other than the fact that they all come from European countries...there is not much linking them." He turned back to his PDA.

"Oh yeah...and all of them were made in the 1940's and '50's." I thought about that for a moment, before nodding.

"That makes sense." I said, taking a bite out of my energy bar.

"In the 40's and 50's...women were perfect wives, who cooked and cleaned and stayed home with the kids...maybe that's what the scarves are for..." I looked at them a moment before adding "...other than for killing the victims."

Just then, Valerie stormed in, yelling into her mobile phone...and attracting a lot of attention to herself.

"I don't care! Does it matter to me that you're brother was just in a car accident? No! Now get one of your repair men to my house immediately and fix my shower!" She hung up angrily, storming over to the table. I was sure I saw steam coming from her ears. Tucker attempted to turn this into some sort of joke.

"Well, someone's in a good mood." He said. Of course, this only earned a heavy glare from Valerie. She sat down next to me, letting out a sigh.

I decided to speak.

"Trouble finding a decent plumber?"

"Well isn't that stating the Obvious."

"Hey..I was just Asking."

"I know...Sorry...I'm just in a really bad mood right now."

I smirked, pushing a piece of black hair behind my ear. "Really? I didn't notice."

Later that night I stood at the crime scene with Danny. All evidence that could have been obtained was obtained, so that wasn't the reason we were there...

"...To catch a killer..." Danny started, shoving his hands in his pocket. I finished the sentence for him.

"...You have to become a killer..."

I nodded, walking over towards Danny with another sigh.

"So let's say it's the night of the murder...The killer has just made his kill. He moves the victim...onto the chair..." I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to picture it, trying to

_become the killer._

"It's dark...it's cold...but I don't notice. No...I'm too exited." I could tell by the look on Danny's face that he was a bit alarmed that I was actually trying to 'become the killer.' but I continued on.

"I make my way across the deck, over the fence...careful not to leave any trace of evidence of what I had done. The woman is at home...in her rightful place..."

I turned to Danny. "The woman wasn't killed here...she was moved. The killer needed her to be at home...it completed the fantasy."

Ahah! Another chapter up and running. So please please please review and I will love you forever. Said it before, say it again...I love constructive criticism! It's great! Also remember to help me come up for a name for the series thing!

Thanks a bunch,

Aiyana.


	6. Picture in the Park

**Authors Note: I know! I have no life, thus meaning that I have time to sit and write...updating quickly! bows. **

Of course, the tribute to my lovely reviewers comes next:

Shades-Of-Pink, lindy12, killergrim23,CharmedNightSkye,RealityBreakGirl, Demon in The Snow, SaveDanny69, look for the girl with the broken smile, OrangeJuice101, Rememberthelegacy, Black-rose23, DivaGurl227, RealityBreakGirl and Lightning Streak.

I also have two shout outs for two absolutely fantastic Reviewers. The first:

RealityBreakGirl. YOU ARE AMAZING. Your reviews really make my day, and your ideas really help me. -gives more chocolate- -hugs- D

The second would be:

Lightning Streak. Not only were you my first ever reviewer, but when you went on vacation and came back after I had updated four times, you reviewed every chapter...and I loved your reviews. Also, I found out that you were the Author of: Living on the Edge, which for those who haven't read it is another cop-DP mix fic.. PEOPLE: that story puts Simon Says to shame. I love it.

And do you want to know something? Lightning Streaks's story was my Inspiration to start writing this fic! Everybody give hugs to Lightning Streak...and go read and review the story LIVING ON THE EDGE. Do it!

IMPORTANT NOTICE: I am still looking for a name for the Series that I am going to be starting, based off of the cases unit 145 solves in the future. Many reviewers have given me GREAT ideas, and I love them...but I'm keeping my mind open until the minute I start writing book two of the series. So keep brainstorming people!

And to answer several peoples questions...I'm not sure if there will be DxS in this story. There might be, I write as I go along, but I'm pretty sure that the DxS will mainly be in the second story of the series, which I have already named: The Fugitive.

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.

* * *

It was finally Friday, and I sat at my desk, sorting through mountains of files and paperwork on the serial killings case. "We've got to be missing something..." I mumbled to myself, stifling a yawn and continuing to shift through the papers. A sudden, shrill ring erupted through the silent office, causing me and the other agents to jump in their seats. Tara checked the phone, looking over to me.

"Sam. It's Simon." Was all she said, causing many heads throughout the office to look up. I took a deep breath, shaking a strand of ebony hair from my face and moving towards the phone. "Sam Manson." I said into the phone. Before he even said anything I could tell it was him, just by the strange sort of tension that seemed to be coming through the phone line.

"Hello Samantha." Came a very dark voice. Before I could even respond, he continued.

"Are you ready for the first round of our little game?"

I shuddered internally at the way a sick, kind of twisted delight danced in his sinister tone.

"I'll never be ready, but that won't keep me from playing." I sat on the edge of my desk, glancing around at the other members of unit 145, who were looking at me with worried, serious expressions. I switched it over to speaker phone so the team members could hear, but I did it in such a careful, silent manner that he wouldn't hear the transmission of changing it.

Simon chuckled, causing me to shudder again.

"Good. Now...Go to the park in the center of town at exactly twelve noon. Taped to the bottom of the wooden bench directly across from the fountain will be a small piece of paper...you're further instruction await you there. Come alone, and unarmed." and with that there was a small click on the other line, indicating that he had hung up on the other line.

Danny had clenched his fists tightly and looked as mad as hell.

"This guy is sick, and twisted...yet he's so careful and plans everything out. That's what bugs me." The rest of the team nodded in agreement. I sighed.

"It's eleven o'clock. I have an hour before I have to be over at the park." Danny shook his head again.

"What if he's there, waiting for you? We can't put you at that Risk." I shook my head.

"Yes we can, Danny! I need to do this! It's our only lead into catching this guy. I thought we'd been over this." Danny sighed, obviously not wanting me to go to meet a serial killer.

"Fine." He said, caving in.

"But you're not going alone." I shook my head again.

"Simon said that I had to-" He cut me off.

"-and he won't know. They'll be under cover."

I sighed, nodding my head in agreement. "Okay. Let's Go."

* * *

I walked quickly across the grass of Amity Park's Park (No pun intended) towards a wooden bench across from a fountain. If I weren't here to take instruction from a serial killer I might have stopped to admire how beautiful the fountain was...the water streamed upward to an impressive height before gravity took it's course and it came down again, landing in the shining pool of water. Of course...I probably wouldn't have stopped to admire it any way, because although I dress a bit more conservatively now that I'm older...on the inside I am still a goth. And Goth's don't stop to admire pretty things like fountains. Unless they are black.

Anyway, I sat down on the wooden bench, reaching underneath it to pull out the paper that was supposed to be there...and nearly gagged when my fingers found a piece of newly-stuck gum instead of a note.

"Right, other side of the bench." I mumbled inaudibly to myself, scooting over to the other end, reaching underneath it and pulling out a folded piece of paper. The letters were hand–written. Damn...this meant we couldn't trace the words to any particular computer. Written neatly on the paper was:

Go into the grove of trees to the left of you, find a gym bag.

I sighed again, standing up and heading off into the small grove of Trees.

Meanwhile, Valerie..who was working as an undercover agent , pushed a stroller across a the walkway.

'Target has entered grove of trees, I've lost visual." she mumbled, continuing to walk and look casual. Danny, who was standing several feet away wearing exercise clothing, spoke back. "Don't follow her in, it will be too suspicious if she's being watched. Fall back, all."

While currently I was pushing my way through tree branches, looking out for a gym bag. Finally, I spotted what I was looking for...the gym bag. There was a set of more instructions on the front of it, which I immediately began to read.

Inside this bag is a camera. Sit on the bench where you found this note and have someone take a picture of you.

I read the note in confusion, before immediately coming to a decision I had already made a while back. This guy was definitely insane. I took the camera and walked somewhat shakily over towards the bench.

Spotting a sweet-looking old lady standing by the fountain, I asked her if she could take a picture of me. She agreed, but seemed very confused when I sat down on the bench, didn't look at the camera and didn't smile. She took the picture anyway, and handed it back to me, as well as the picture that had shot out of the camera and was beginning to develop. On her way to sit back down in her spot I heard her mutter to herself.

"The new generation is always so troubled..." That got me a small smile, reminding me of my 'troubled teen' years back in highschool. I brought my two fingers to the ear bud in my ear, starting to speak.

"Let's go, guys. His instructions have been carried out." I looked down at the camera and the photo, which had developed just enough that you could see my faint silhouette now.

Tucker stood up from a park bench on the other sede of the fountain, tucking the newspaper he had been pretending to read under his arm. Valerie jerked her head towards the car on the other side of the street.

"Meet you back at headquarters. Take that car...you have to leave alone, just as you came." I nodded slightly, turning and moving towards the car.

* * *

Back at the headquarters, I looked down at the fully-developed photo and the Camera, sighing. "So what do you think the point of him sending me on that charade was?" I asked, looking back up at the group. Danny was the next to speak.

"He's giving us clues in a very abstract way...like he's daring us to catch him."

I placed my head in my hands.

"I can't think of any reason why he'd have me take a picture of myself..."

Valerie hung up the phone, walking over to my desk.

"Well you don't have to think about it now...Come on, the plumber is heading over to the apartment right now, and we need to meet him when he gets there."

* * *

I turned and looked to Valerie and then back to the plumber, who was kneeling over the tub part of the shower. This guy was the most stereotypical plumber anyone could imagine. He smelled horrible, his clothes were stained, his pants were way too low and he seemed very disoriented about everything. He seemed to be fixing it though, and everything seemed to be running at an almost smooth pace until about half an hour later when he turned to us, holding a large and important looking pipe in our direction.

"Excuse me, but do you know where this goes?" Valerie and I turned to each other, eyebrows raised.

"You have_ got_ to be kidding me."

The plumber left about an hour later, and both Valerie and I collapsed on our couch.

"Well...at least it's fixed." I said with a shrug, rubbing my temples with my hands.

"Yeah...but now we're going to have to disinfect the entire house to get rid of the smell he left behind." I nodded.

"That smell was disgusting...it smelled like body odor and alcohol teamed up against us."

Valerie shuddered, grabbing the pillow next to her and hugging it in front of her while grabbing the remote.

"Who's up for sickeningly mushy soap operas?" I groaned

"Definitely not me...what channel are all the horror movies on?"

Just then, my cell phone rang, and the caller ID simply said: Number Withheld. I looked to Valerie worriedly, and she turned the television off as I pressed the talk button.

"Hello?" I asked. The same over-the-phone tension built up so fast it was like someone had brought it over in a bulldozer and dumped it on me. I knew from the moment I answered that it was him. But how did he get my number?

Oh yeah, he's a psychopathic serial killer...

He didn't even respond with his traditional 'Hello Samantha.' Instead, he got straight to the chase.

"Good choice on asking an old lady to take your picture...very safe." He said. This confirmed my fears...he had been watching me. I took a deep breath before replying.

"I suppose you'll want that picture of me?" He chuckled again. Oh how I hated that laugh.

"No Samantha, it's alright...you keep it. I have enough photo's of you already." Okay..that kind of freaked me out. He continued.

"But Samantha...I told you to go alone. You broke the rules...and that's not a good thing to do. I'll be in touch with you tomorrow, and I'll show you what happens when you break the rules." and with that there was another 'click.' he had hung up.

I managed to keep myself from shaking. This guy had my phone number...he probably knew where I lived and he very well could be watching me right now. "Valerie...close all the blinds in the house...and you're sleeping in my room tonight."

Aiiie...another chapter. I know these chapters are short...but I'm updating them so fast it doesn't really matter, right? There's a reason for the short, fast updates. And it would be because I'm turning them into a series, so each story won't be super long.

and I know the 'picture' thing doesn't make any sense...but it will.

PLEASE REVIEW! It will only take up a minute of your time. Thank you.


	7. Her Blood is On Your hands

**Authors note: Hey everyone! It's been about two weeks since my last update, and to tell you the truth...it's the longest I've gone without updating. Wow...I was experiencing a little case of writers block, but I'm recovering now...The thing that was causing me the most trouble was because I kept coming up with more and more ideas for the future stories in the series. **

**Alright people, as for the name of the series, I'm stuck between my Original idea, 'Unit 145' **

'**FBI 145' and Idea provided to me by Emotigone crazy. Please, my mind is still open for all Ideas. **

**I got twelve reviews for last chapter, which is still pretty good...I'd like to make it to fifteen this time though, do you think you guys can help me do that? **

**Alright, on with the next chapter.**

* * *

I was practically dragged into the FBI headquarters the next morning, dreading the next phone call with Simon. I'll never forget what he said to me on the phone last night in that same dark, evil way that would make the devil himself shudder. 

'_I'm going to show you what happens when you break the rules...'_

Valerie gave me another serious glare. "Sam. Get a grip. I mean, you shouldn'tfall apart just because some psycho serial killer is out to get you." I sent her one of my gothic death glares.

She laughed nervously. "That didn't help at all...did it?."

I crossed my arms in front of me. "Do you even have to ask?" We entered Unit 145's head quarters, and I moved over to my desk, sitting down slowly and trying to bury myself in my work to get my mind off the killer.

...too bad my work involves looking at pictures of the dead victims.

Finally I just closed my eyes and started to block out everything in my mind, and my team members did not intervene...they knew not to mess with a goth woman when she's using her defense mechanisms.

I was ever-so-rudely interrupted by that same shrill ring of the telephone. Great. Everyone in the room stopped ceased what they were doing, even the interns who were there just to make coffee and run errands. Danny sent me a look os encouragement, nodding his head in the direction of the phone on my desk. I looked down at it for a second, just watching it. It was on it's fourth ring...now or never...

I reached over to the phone towards the receiver, but diverted my fingers to the speaker phone button below that.

"U-unit 145...Manson Here." I said in the routine way, even though I knew it was not necessary.

"Now...why did you have to go and close the blinds, Samantha? I was so thoroughly enjoying the look on your face when you were speaking to me." His words confirmed that my worst fears had come true...he had been watching me. He continued speaking.

"And you even went as far as having Ms. Gray sleep in your room? I promise Samantha I wouldn't have tried anything...I'm having to much fun to kill you...yet."

I looked up again, glancing around at the people in the room. Tucker was attempting to trace the call, Valerie was sitting at her desk, listening with Tara and Charlie, and Danny was fiddling with a paper clip, glaring angrily at the phone. I swear I saw his eyes flash green, but I must have just been seeing things. Besides..I needed to respond.

"Well I'm sorry to have disappointed you."

Simon chuckled darkly. "You will be sorry, Samantha. Just you wait. I want you to go down to the farming district at the edge of Amity. I have an address for you 144 Ghostpress. You know where that is, correct? "

I took a breath. "Yes..."

He paused a moment, and even though I couldn't see him I knew he was grinning...and it wasn't a cute, lopsided grin like Danny's. Ah...pretend I didn't just say that.

It was evil and dark, a grin that would haunt someone's dreams for all eternity if he or she ever caught a glimpse of it.

"Good." he said smugly. "I want you to go there...now...and you can bring as many of your friends from the FBI as you want this time." And with that there was another 'click' indicating that he was gone.

I stood up somewhat shakily. It wasn't like me to fear something so openly. I usually wasn't a fearful person, and when I did experience that annoying emotion, I hid it well...I guess being chased around by a psycho can change a girl. Those black and white movies might actually have some truth to them. I managed to replace my mask of bravery over my face once more.

"Come on, Team. We're going to that old barn."

half an hour later, I stood at a house with the address that was given.. The air reeked of animals and cow manure, but those smells were overpowered by a smell that I had almost grown accustomed to. Death.

There, inside a small country-style kitchen, was a woman sitting in a chair with a scarf tied decoratively around her neck. Her hands were placed gingerly over her heart, in another moved pose. Simon had struck again...

The thing that was different then all of the others was a note on the table was that there was a gash in the woman's leg, and a note of the table that was scribbled out in red, dripping ink. But everyone there knew it wasn't ink at all. The note was short, with only two sentences scrawled across it, but it will be forever burned into my mind.

'_Next time don't break the rules, Samantha. Her blood is on your hands.'_

I turned away, stepping out of the kitchen...I couldn't handle this. I knew that it wasn't my fault that woman died...but I also knew that she was killed because of me...and I couldn't stop the overwhelming guilt from entering my mind. Then I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder.

I turned around quickly, even though I knew I had nothing to fear(at the moment), I was still a bit jumpy. I sighed from relief as I saw two azure eyes looking back at me. It was Danny.

"Are you okay, Sam?" He asked me slowly, not removing his hand from my shoulder. I sighed, closing my eyes briefly.

"I'll...I'll manage." Was all I said. But then I felt it coming...I felt the tears coming. Oh, this couldn't happen! I was supposed to be deprived of all normal emotions! I couldn't cry...not now...not in front of Danny.

But soon there was no fighting it. My wall that I had built up over the years to keep painful emotions in and to keep people out came crumbling down, and I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face into his shoulder. This seemed to have surprised him, but he quickly recovered. "It's okay, Sam..." He said softly...I'm sure that was all he could think of to say...as cute as he was, he could be somewhat slow...and kind of a spaz. But hey, he's cute, right?

I continued to silently cry into his shoulder, and I was surprised at how good it felt to have someone's arms around me. For the first time since Simon contacted me, I felt safe.

Danny stroked my hair gently before speaking again. "Come on, let's go back to headquarters..I'll drive."

* * *

**Alright...I know that was short...I was going to add much more but I wanted to end the chapter on the first part of real fluff that there was...of course...it's a small piece of fluff...but fluff all the same! And this chapter was also very important...Not only did it bring the next murder scene into play, but it showed how much the psychotic serial killer is affecting Sam. **

**And I PROMISE to have another chapter out by the weekend...and remember, the more reviews I get...the quicker I write! **


	8. My Ringtone He's Calling Again

**Authors Note: Hey everyone. I would have updated sooner, but I was waiting for the fifteen reviews that I was hoping for...Unfortunately...It didn't happen.**

**I THANK MY LOYAL REVIEWERS WITH ALL MY HEART. You have reviewed nearly every chapter, and for that I am thankful. hugs**

**And My mind is still open for series names Ideas...like you already know, I'm not choosing until my last chapter...which is...I don't know.**

**And I have a question for you readers...Is it really that scary? Apparently I creeped a lot of you out...which is beyond me. I must have a really dark mind because when I write this I don't get scared at all...psh..no.**

**And despite popular belief, I was not admitted into the hospital...If I was, I would have brought my laptop so I could have updated anyway. Lol.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom**

**On with the story.**

* * *

I sat at my desk at the headquarters, blankly sipping a cup of coffee out of a Styrofoam cup, Danny sitting next to me.

"We can take you off of this case, you know...You don't have to deal with this if you don't want to." He said.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Danny...Simon is in contact with _me_. He calls everyday to talk with _me_. You can't take me off this case if you want any chance of catching this guy." I finished my coffee, crushing the Styrofoam cup in my hand.

Danny sighed, knowing I was right. "Alright, you have a point, but-"

"But nothing" I interrupted, resting my face in my hands, my elbows on the Desk. Besides, I have an Idea for the next time Simon Ca-"

Annnnnd cue the ring of the Telephone. All of the other team members were still at the crime scene up in the farming district. Danny sighed, standing up and motioning for me to hit the speaker phone button...with a shaky hand, I did.

"Hello Samantha." He said coldly. I closed my eyes, suppressing a shudder at the sound of his voice. When I reopened them, instead of fear...a determined, almost angry look was burned into my lilac-colored irises.

"Hello Simon" I said, my tone almost completely casual. He chuckled again. "You don't have to pretend you're not scared, Samantha."

I even managed a smile at that. "Who says I'm pretending. Simon, I have a proposition for you."

Just then, the other members of Unit 145 entered the room, and Danny motioned for them to be silent. Simon chuckled once more.

"And what kind of proposition is that?"

I took a breath, summoning up more courage into my tone. A proposition to ensure that I won't break any more rules. From now on, Simon...I choose the place that you send me...and I choose the time. If you want to try and get inside my head and freak me out...then your clues better be scary as hell." I could tell on the other end of the line that he was pondering this.

He finally spoke. "I'm listening."

I uncharacteristically gave a thumbs up to my team members, signaling that I knew what I was doing. "Leave your next clue under the seat in the first booth at The Nasty Burger on Specter Street tomorrow...any time you like..I'll be there to pick it up at four o'clock PM." I said confidently.

There was silence on the other line for another few moments, until he spoke again. "And how do I know that you won't have a whole team of special agents waiting for me there?" He said, his tone still even.

I replied right away. "You don't. Still want to play?"

Simon answered me a moment later. "Fine, Samantha...but don't pull any funny business with your undercover agents...or it's another woman's life." And then came the soundthat was beginning to make my blood run cold everytime it graced my ears.'Click'

He had hung up, and Tucker sighed with disappointment. "If he had stayed on the line ten more seconds, I would have been able to trace the call."

This earned a few groans from the other team members, but I didn't say anything. I was now determined as hell to catch this guy...and I wouldn'trest until I knew that no more women would be killed because of some disgusting, twisted psychopath.

"Give me the pictures of the crime scene." I said, sticking out my hand. Charlie reluctantly handed over the manilla file, and I spread them out on my desk.

"Tucker, run a background check on the woman, and on the scarf around her neck." I instructed. Tucker nodded, pulling out his PDA once again.

I then turned to Tara. "He was watching me as he talked to me last night on my cell phone. Only I was on the twelve story of a building...get people from the evidence and crime lab to scan other buildings within the line of sight of my apartment, and have them scan for any possible evidence he left behind." Tara nodded, walking quickly over to her desk and picking up the phone.

By then tucker had already found all the information I had asked for. , he had plugged in his PDA to his computer monitor and projected it on the TV screen in the corner of the room. Pictures of the woman while she was alive came up.

"This woman was also very successful, she owned all of the land surrounding her home, and was in the vegetable crop business...even though she lived in a small farmhouse, she raked in millions every year.

I sighed. "So the pattern continues..."

Tucker did some more scanning on his handheld before pulling up a picture of the scarf. "This scarf is oriental...it was made in china...in 1952."

I put my head in my hands once again. "He's doing the same thing to every woman...yet we still can't catch him."

"We'll catch him, Sam."

I nodded. "Yes, We will. Of that I'm sure." There was no way that this killer was going free. Not if I had anything to say about it.

About two hours later, Tara walked up to my desk. "I just got the report from the evidence lab...there is one other building in the line of sight of you're apartment...in order to get a clear shot of you're face he would of had to be in the thirteenth story of the bank across the street...the section of the bank that he would of had to be in...closed for remodeling, and he was careful. He left no fingerprints or DNA anywhere...this guy is good, Samantha."

I sighed. "That we know already..."

Danny and I continued to shift through the files and pictures that we already had. The pictures of all five victims spread out on my desk.. "Danny...there's nothing else in these photos to find...this guy it too careful."

And for the rest of the day, that's how it went. We looked through files and photos until our eyes glazed over. I was glad to see the day end, and drove back to the apartment with Valerie.

"Valerie...I'm tired...It's only Seven, but I'm going to bed." I said as we entered the apartment. I dropped my keys in the bowl on the end table by the door, and Valerie did the same.

She nodded. "It's been a tiring day for all of us...I think I'll turn in too."

I offered her a weak smile as I headed off in the direction of my bedroom.

Quickly changing into my black pajama's I crawled slowly into bed, closing my eyes. My black and purple sheet's kept out the cold...but they couldn't keep out that tight, icy nervousness that settled inside me...the kind of feeling you get when you're feeling your way in the dark. I tried to think of things other than the case...the ghost attack this morning, the environmentalist convention I wanted to attend next month, Danny..

Why the hell do I keep doing that?

But I found it impossible to keep my mind off the case, because the minute I started to drift off into a much-needed sleep, I was rudely awakened by a sound I dreaded more than any sound in the world.

My Ringtone.

* * *

**I was going to keep going with this, at least another page or two...but I decided against it. You're going to have to wait until my next update...and since I'm going to sleep away camp on Tuesday... shrug I might be able to keep writing and update tomorrow if you guys want to read the next chapter bad enough...but of course, you'll have to tell me how badly you want the update...IN YOUR REVIEWS. Haha evil cackle**


	9. Don't change the rules

**Authors note: Wow...I guess my threat to not update really affected people...I got so many reviews in three hours! I mean, I post the next chapter, go to church, come home, and there are FOURTEEN REVIEWS WAITING FOR ME ALL AT ONCE! That's never happened before! Yay! And now after waiting a couple more hours, I have exceeded my fifteen review goal...and got closer to twenty! Why couldn't you have reviewed like that before? huh? Well...please keep it up!**

**Oh yes..and for this chapter ONLY, I am adding a 'Danny's POV' put only for part of this chapter. Otherwise...it's all Sam. Lol.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom...shocking, right?**

* * *

I bolted upright at the sound of my cell phone ringing, reaching over my bedside table and picking it up.

"Hello?"

"Hello Samantha."

My blood, which had only recently begun to thaw, was quickly turned to ice again at the sound of his dark voice. He could sense my apprehension, and chuckled.

"I only agreed to follow your rules to satisfy your colleagues. I trust you're alone now?" He said, I could tell that he was annoyed...possibly angry.

I summoned up as much courage as possible. "No, I'm not. As a matter of fact, the whole team is over here for coffee." I lied, but winced as I did so, knowing that it wasn't a very convincing one.

He laughed again.

"Samantha, I know your alone. I followed you home..." His voice was really, really freaking me out...so dark and evil, yet with a trace of amusement...enjoyment. I knew he loved tormenting me...and I would never bring myself to admit what a good job he was doing.

"You seemed to have forgotten Samantha. I make the rules. You follow them."

I had to keep myself from trembling. He was taking from me any control I had over the situation...the way a 'good little housewife' should respond. Always following the rules and doing as she was told.

"Now. There is a building under construction about one block from your apartment building. Go there, and come alone...for real this time." 'Click'

I closed the phone with shaking hands, letting it fall to the floor with a thud. Realizing I had dropped it, I leaned over and picked it up, placing it in the pocket of my pajama pants.

I knew what had to be done. I had to get to the place Simon instructed me to go...if I didn't, another life would probably be on the line. I tiptoed out of my room, my lavender eyes scanning the hallway. Valerie had already turned in for the night, and I knew I shouldn't tell her where I was going. If she didn't try and stop me, she'd call for reinforcements once I was gone...and Simon would find out about that and kill another woman.

I grabbed my black coat from the closet in the hallway, slipping it on and buttoning it all the way up. Unable to find any other shoes, and stepped into a pair of combat boots, leaning over to lace them up.

With a sigh I turned towards the door, silently opening it and stepping out into the hallway of my apartment building. I took the elevator to the ground level, finally getting out to the street.

There was a biting chill in the air, and I pulled my coat tighter around me in an attempt to keep out the cold. It was useless however, so I sped up in an attempt to warm up my body and find shelter from the wind as soon as possible.

I had soon reached the building that was under construction, and cautiously stepped inside. The floor was simply cement, with stacks of two-by-four on either side of the hallway, there were scaffolds on the walls and piles of that pink insulation everywhere. I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of a note or a clue that he usually left. I found myself standing at the bottom of a flight of stairs, and cautiously began to climb it.

I felt as if the suspenseful music that they have in horror movies should be playing in the background...in fact, I wish it was...I think it would have made it _less_ scary. I was left with nothing but painful, tense, terrifying silence. I made it to the second story of the building, and carefully turned around the corner. I whirled around at the sound of a squeaky floorboard, only to realize that it was myself that had stepped on the wood and made it squeak.

"God, Sam...get a grip." I whispered to myself as I entered a room, my eyes scanning the room.

My eyes widened at the sound of an oh too familiar voice.

"Hello Samantha."

I whirled around, my eyes as wide as dinner plates...only to see no one. Maybe I imagined it? Very unlikely. I took a step forward silently, trying to keep the fear that was running though me from affecting my awareness of the room.

Suddenly, a large, gloved hand was pressed against my mouth and a painfully strong arm wrapped around my waist. I let out a muffled scream as I was thrown against the sheet-rock wall. Pain coursed through my body as I slid to the ground, completely helpless. Inside I was screaming at myself...Never before had I ever lost a fight...Okay there was that one time in highschool when I was running a 103 degree fever...but that didn't count...Yet now, I felt entirely unable to fight back...I was too consumed by fear.

"Don't bother screaming, Samantha...No one can hear you." He said sinisterly, moving ever closer to me. His hand seized me by the throat and brought be back up to standing position...I could feel my air supply being cut off. He was wearing a mask so that I was unable to identify him..but I could barely see anyway, my vision was going in and out. I heard him speak again, and I unsuccessfully possessed a shudder.

"That face...like a work of art." He whispered with an almost tender tone...but then his voice turned back to that angry, cold tone that struck so much fear inside me.

"...such a waste." And then I saw it. He pulled a scarf out from the pocket of his coat, tying it around my neck. I felt hot tears come to my eyes as I struggled more fiercely, but it was no use...He was too strong.

And the next thing I knew, I felt a sharp pain on the back of my head, and everything went black.

* * *

**THE ONLY TIME YOU WILL EVER HAVE DANNY POV**

The sound of a Ringing telephone stirred me from my sleep, and I groggily reached over to my bedside table to answer it. "Danny Fenton." I mumbled tiredly into the receiver. I heard Valeries worried voice on the other end.

"Danny, Have you seen Sam?" She asked. I sat up, confused.

"She's missing?" I ran a hand through my hair before climbing out of bed.

"Both of us went to sleep...I woke up half an hour later and she's not here. She took her coat and her boots...so she left my herself, but with all of the stuff happening with the killer and everything..."

I could tell that she was frantic...and I was doing my best to stay calm also. "Valerie, wake up Tucker and Charlie and Tara...get them all into headquarters ASAP." I said, changing quickly into a white T-shirt and jeans, grabbing my keys off the hook on the wall and exiting my small house. Climbing into my blue ford, I started up the engine and drove, above speed limit, to headquarters.

Surprisingly, the four other unit members were already waiting for me...some still wearing their pajamas.

Tucker was fiddling with something on his PDA, and I shook my head at him, feeling rushed and aggravated.

"Tucker, now is not the time to be playing Doomed 9. We've got to find Sam."

He shook his head. "I'm not playing doomed 9. Sam's phone has a global positioning system. I'm tracing it now."

I nodded somewhat sheepishly, before turning to my desk.

Valerie and Tara were typing furiously on their computers...and...I kind of just stood there helplessly, waiting for Tucker's go.

He plugged his PDA into the TV screen, a map popping up onto it. "She's in a building about 1 block from her apartment...It's closed for renovation...The address is 4456 Ectoplasm Avenue."

Not even saying anything, I nodded for Tucker, Charlie, and Valerie to follow me. Tara was to stay behind, watching the situation through a camera and telling us where to go.

Valerie, Tucker, Charlie and I watched as a "SWAT" Team entered the building in a traditional manner, and we were permitted to enter afterward. I couldn't stand the wait...my patience was running out...Sam could be in grave danger and we were forced to just sit here and watch.

I let out a grunt as an officer gave me the Okay, and the four of us practically bolted in the door.

Tara's voice could be heard through a hearing device all of us wore in our ears.

"The signal is coming from a room on the second story." We nodded, climbing up the stairs quickly. I spoke into the ear piece.

"Where to, now Tara?" Tara seemed to be searching her computer.

"The room on your left."

I entered it quickly, my eyes widening with shock at the sight. It was sam, sitting against the wall, her arms folded over herself and a scarf wrapped around her neck.

"No!" I practically shouted, running over to her, her body was completely still. I took her into my arms, cradling her limp form. But I noticed that her body felt warm against my colder-than-human skin...and although it was faint...I could see her abdomen moving up and down...She was breathing! She's alive! I let out a large sigh of relief and stood up, picking her up bridal style.

"She's unconscious...but alive." I said. My friends and team members smiled, expressions of relief carved onto their tired faces.

"Let's get her home."

* * *

**BACK TO SAMS POV**

I let out a groan as I slipped back into consciousness. My head felt as if was split in half with one of those double-bladed axes that was mounted on my wall in highschool. Where was I? I dared to open my eyes to see that I was lying In my own bed, by black sheets engulfing me. Danny, Tucker and Valerie all sat in chairs next to my bedside.

"What...?" I mumbled, causing them to look up.

"You're awake!" Valerie practically shouted with joy, throwing her arms around me.

"Careful..CAREFUL!" I had to shout, she pulled back, grinning sheepishly.

"Sorry...I was exited..." I smirked at her.

"Really? I didn't notice?"

Danny's face was filled with relief and happiness, but was soon turned to aggravated as he continued to look at me.

"What the hell did you think you were doing, Sam?"

I sighed before mirroring his expression.

"I was thinking about saving another life by following his rules."

Danny was about to reply when Valerie silenced him.

"Sam...just get some rest." Was all she said, pulling Danny and Tucker out of the room by their shirt collars. I sighed, rolling over onto my side and closing my eyes, falling into a much-needed sleep.

**Alright...This chapter actually succeeded in freaking me out a little as I wrote it, but other than that...I didn't like this chapter at all...It felt too rushed to me since I was forced to keep writing and finish by today so that I could get this up by today.**

**Heck, I might even be able to post chapter ten by late tonight before I go to camp tommorow morning. Interested? Then Review!**

**I'll let you know that the next chapter will be when all of his clues start to peice together...so it will be very important!**

**Till then, **

**Aiyanabell**


	10. Authors Note Not a Chapter

**Authors note: Sadly, this is not an update. I am just formerly addressing the issue of me going off to camp tomorrow and not being able to update. I have decided (On the advice of a very kind reviewer...I'm not going to endanger her by posting her name...lol that was fun to write.) To go off to camp and update when I get back, instead of rushing to complete the next chapter by tonight. Don't worry...I'm bringing my notebook so I'll scribble down Ideas whenever I can, and I'll probably end up just writing out the story there, so that immediately after I get back, I can post the story for you to read. **

**When I'm up there It will give me a chance to think of the other stories in the series, even though I already have the main plot line of them all figured out.**

**I think I'll take the time now to post the summaries and titles of future stories, instead of just doing it later.**

**THE _FBI 145_ SERIES**

* * *

**Book 1: Simon Says (Available for reading and reviewing.)**

**FBI agent Samantha Manson is being tormented by one of the criminals they are trying to catch. This psychopathic serial killer has no fear of getting caught, and has invited her into a twisted little game...**

* * *

**Book 2: The Fugitive. (Coming Soon)**

**A prison truck transporting criminals collided with another vehicle on it's way through Amity Park. Five Criminals escaped. Four were caught within the hour, but one man managed to pull himself off of local law enforcement radar. It is the FBI's job to catch this fugitive...but Samantha soon finds that there is more to this than meets the eye.**

* * *

**Book 3: Cold Case (Coming Soon) **

**The Amity Park Children's Hospital is hosting it's yearly charity event...An Internet Eligible Bachelor Auction. The male members of Unit 145 are unwillingly volunteered to participate, much to the pleasure of Sam, Valerie, and Tara...Is Romance in the Air for the team? ****And The mother of a victim in a bank heist twelve years ago asked the team to re-open and re-investigate the crime...Samantha and the Team find that there was much more evidence just beneath the surface of this unsolved case. **

* * *

**Book 4: The Hunter. (Coming Soon)**

**New evidence provided to the FBI indicates that the wrong man was put in jail twenty years ago. He was supposedly 'The Hunter' A serial killer who attacked and killed taxi drivers in a city near Amity in the 80's...With the attacks starting up again, it's up to the team to stop him before he strikes again. ****Sam's barely healed wounds from the last serial killer case are re-opened as she is forced to become the killer once again? Will the stress be too much?**

* * *

**Annnddd...that's all I have so far...I'm going to take these one at a time, so don't worry about me rushing into them or anything. Each book will take up a month or two, and then I'll move to the next...I'm thinking of making about ten books in the series. Some will be shorter than others...so the timeline will vary.**

**Alright people, I'll see you next week! **

**Aiyanabell.**


	11. Jigsaw Puzzle

**Authors note: Hey everybody! Sorry for the wait... I would have updated sooner but I was really busy and had a bad case of writers block. But hey, I'm updating now, right?**

**I hope everyone has taken the time in my absence to read _Living On The Edge _by Lightning streak, I'll also take time to praise the stories written by Blackbelt. She's an amazing writer. Her stories: _Dare You To Love Me and Amethyst Ocean_ are simply divine, and quite addicting. READ! If you have not read any of the three stories listed, I suggest you read it now. After reading this of course. Hehe. **

**Thanks so much to all of my reviewers! You are all wonderful and I love you all. -hug-**

**On with the story.**

The next morning, I was awoken by the soft rays of sunlight streaming in from in between my blinds, causing a striped effect across my bed. My head felt considerably better, but for at least five minutes I couldn't remember what had happened to me...or where I was. Finally, though...last nights terrifying events made their way back into my mind, and I pulled my black and purple sheets over my head with a groan, just wanting to forget it all. For what seemed like a few minutes I lay there...until I finally gave in and pulled the covers back, turning to look at the clock. I gasped. 9:30 AM! But work started at 7:30! Valerie must have let me sleep in or something. I picked up my cell phone, quickly dialing the headquarters number.

"Hello?" I heard Valerie's voice on the other line.

"Valerie! Why didn't you wake me up! We've got a killer to catch!"

"Sam. Calm Down. The bureau's approved for you to have a day off. Relax. Pull out the bag of gummy bats that I know you've hidden underneath the loose floorboard in your room, and put on a horror movie."

I shook my head, even though I knew she couldn't see it...being an over-the-phone conversation and all.

"No Valerie, I'm coming into work, We're catching this killer."

I hung up the phone before she could respond, jumping out of bed with much exuberance. It was strange really, I didn't feel tired or sluggish, as I thought I would have after so much insanity. I took a deep breath, moving down the hall towards the bathroom. Quickly undressing, I stepped in the shower and turned on the hot water, letting it run over my skin a moment before reaching for the shampoo.

I had just squeezed the lilac smelling shampoo into my hands when the shower head started making strange sounds. I looked at it a moment before reaching up and adjusting the shower head.

And guess what happened.

The damn thing came off in my hands again.

"Auuughh!" I shouted, jumping from the shower quickly and running down the hall. I knew what to do this time, so hopefully the flooding wouldn't be so extensive, as it was last time. I threw on my dark purple robe with such speed I'm sure superman would be jealous, and threw open the door of my apartment. Bolting down the hallway, I probably scared an elderly man to death as he walked by, pushing himself against the wall as I zoomed past so I didn't plow right over him. No time to wait for the elevator, I ran down thirteen flights of stairs so fast, I was sure I was going to leave the ground and take off like a 747. But don't worry, I didn't defy any laws of physics. No superhuman abilities for me. Nope.

I made it down to the basement, my eyes frantically scanning the vast array of pipes which all led up to separate apartments. Seriously...There were like 500 rooms in the complex...and everyone had their own water supply so they wouldn't get cold water if someone was already showering. So there were a lot of pipes. After probably five minutes of desperate searching, I located a pipe that was labeled our room number, quickly pulling the red handle downward. The pipes groaned, signaling that the water had been shut off. My sigh of relief was cut off half way by my own groan of frustration. The shower had broken again! I guess it served us right, for hiring a mediocre plumber. Defeated, I trudged back up to the apartment. My feet were dirty by the time I entered my home again...That's probably what I get, for running down to the basement barefoot. No shower to wash them off in, I ended up shoving both my feet under the kitchen sink, scrubbing them with a sponge and dish soap. Note To Self: Wash out sponge before using it to wash dishes I put food on.

Figuring there was nothing I could do at the moment, I sighed, pulling on a pair of black slacks and a lavender colored blouse, with a black fitted suit jacket over that. I ran a brush through my hair that had only been wetted half way. Thank God I hadn't put conditioner in...My hair would have been seriously fried. Ahem. Wait...I'm not a prep! I'm not supposed to care about my hair! I never said anything. After being sure to put on extra deodorant because of the non-existent shower I took this morning, I left the bathroom, shutting off the light and closing the door on my way out.

With another groan of frustration, I grabbed my bag and my car keys, exiting my apartment at a quick pace.

Hallway. Elevator. Corridor. Exit. Parking Garage. Car. I made it inside my little black hybrid, and took a deep breath to calm my nerves. Then I buckled my seat belt, putting the keys in the ignition and turning. The soft hum of my car starting up sounded, and I pulled out of the parking garage, heading down the street at forty miles an hour.

My car pulled up into the parking lot of FBI headquarters about ten minutes later. On my way through the corridor, passing associates sent me all different sorts of looks.

Some sympathetic: My life hadn't exactly been perfect lately. Some almost fearful...I did have the full attention of a serial killer, didn't I? There were tons of other looks mixed in there soon, but after a while I reduced myself to keeping my eyes cast down as I walked. I entered the elevator, pressing the button for my floor and staring down at the fake-marble floor, humming rather loudly as I tried to drown out the annoying elevator music.

I walked through the deserted hallway, listening to nothing but the clicking of my tiny black kitten heels on the shiny floor. Typical United States Government. They can't catch a dangerous psychopath, but they managed to keep all of their floors squeaky clean.

I finally reached the door with the words 'Unit 145' clearly marked in bold letters across the water-washed glass. Pulling open the door, Everyone ceased what they were doing, or rather, what they weren't doing, staring at me with their mouths hanging open.

I could tell that before I entered. The members of my unit were doing nothing but stare at pictures and paperwork. It was true. We had nothing to go on. No fingerprints, no DNA. No suspects or witnesses. Nothing.

I smiled awkwardly.

"Hey..."-I cleared my throat.- "Hey All" I said as I sank into my desk, pulling out all the copies of the murder victims, setting to work right away.

My Team members said nothing. Minutes went by filled with nothing but painful silence. I looked down at the sickening photo's one more time.

"Tucker." I said softly, he bolted upright in his chair.

"Yeah?" He asked. Everyone sat up a little straighter. The tiniest hint of a possible lead was enough to get anyone exited.

I shook my head. "It's probably nothing, but right now a little is a lot...so..." I cleared my scratchy throat again.

"Do a little digging on that super PDA of yours and see if you can link anything to the positions the women were placed in. I mean, they were all different positions, right? So they had to mean something in his eyes."

Tucker nodded, and I stood up to pour myself a cup of coffee. I really, really, really needed coffee.

Another few minutes passed, and we all went back to scanning photo's and documents until our eyes started to hurt.

Tucker practically sprung from his chair. "Guys...I think I might have got something." He said excitedly, plugging his PDA into his laptop, which was connected to the projector screen. "Again...it might just be a coincidence..." He said, pulling up the documents he wanted us to see.

"In this occupation, there is no such thing." Danny said, Standing up and moving a bit closer to the screen.

Tucker nodded. "Right." He said seriously, before pulling up several pages from some art gallery website.

We all looked at him in confusion, and he was all too happy to explain.

"Well, there was nothing really related to the positions of the women alone...but I started thinking. We were investigating all of these leads separately, but what if we put them all together, like putting together pieces on a jigsaw puzzle?"

This made sense. Almost simultaneously, all five of us nodded for Tucker to continue.

"The Scarves, tied around the victim's necks. They were all made in different contries, and the positions of the victims...all different. So, there was no plausible variable to work into the Algorithm."

In the name of God and all that is Holy. Tucker had started speaking nerd.

"English, Tucker!" We all yelled at him in unison

He cleared his throat. "Um...right." He said with a nervous laugh.

"Now, I did a general search in my database, and I found Five different paintings of various housewives made over the years. Get this...The artwork had been produced in various countries...and are equivalent to the origins of the scarves. One Scarf was made in China...there is a Chinese painting. Another in France, A french Painting. Another in Spain, A Spanish painting, Another in-"

"Get on with it Tucker." All five of us yelled, in unison. Again.

"Okay, Okay. Well. The Women in each painting is in a submissive position...like the ones of the victims. Each Scarf matches each painting, which matches each position...which are played out on the bodies of the successful woman. I think we just found our link."

Charlie let out a bitter-sweet, almost maniacal laugh. "This guy is good. But not good enough." He said with a grin.

Everybody stood up from their desks, looking at each other and then back at the screen.

Valerie was the first to speak up after that. "Okay people. This is a serious lead. It's possible this could be what gets us Simon."

I was already back at my desk, scanning the documents, only this time with a new mind set.

"Artwork...Artwork..." I mumbled to myself as I shifted through the various photo's. And then I remembered something.

"Hey...Last night, in the building under construction...Simon said my face was a work of art. And the first clue he gave us. I had to take a picture. Photography is a form of art." By now everybody realized that we had figured out what linked the victims together. There was no way this was just a coincidence.

I shifted through the mountain of files on my desk, pulling out a copy of the picture I had taken of me that day at the park. I looked up to tucker again.

"Tucker, pull up the hard copy of this photo on the projector." I instructed. He nodded and did so.

I examined the photo again, on a larger screen. Looking at other objects other than the obvious ones. After a few moments, my eyes rested on the benches across the street from the park, just visible in the corner of the photo. "Can you zoom in on the advertisements on the benches across the street?" I asked him. He nodded again, clicking with his mouse on the ad's and zooming in so we could see what they said. Danny had narrowed his eyes at the screen.

"An ad for...a Cab Company...and for..." My future boyfr—I mean, Daniel...My work associate, trailed off as he read the second ad.

"An Art Gallery." I finished, crossing my arms.

"I'm on it." Tucker said urgently, unplugging his PDA from his computer. The projector screen went blank, and we all looked at each other again. Probably about five seconds at just glancing back and forth at one another, all of us snapped into action. Shuffling through papers at lightning speed. I guess it was killing us, having the case almost solved, but not having enough legible proof to go on to actually have some action. We've all been sitting idly at our desks re-reading autopsy files and staring at photo's, but no action had been made since the start of this case. No witnesses to interview. No suspects to interrogate. Nada.

I kept working, however. Pulling up the website for the Art Gallery on the add, I started digging to find out about all of the employees, doing background checks on all of them, looking for anything out of the ordinary. After about ten minutes, I pulled up a background file from one of the employees. It definitely fit the profile. I tried to remember the night before, to see if there was any resemblance...but there was no way to tell. He had been wearing a mask.

"I think I just found our first, and hopefully our last, real suspect." I said, clicking at my computer, making it so the file appeared up on the projector screen.

"Nathan Holmes. Forty Seven Years old. Caucasian. He's the Keeper of the Art Gallery. Every Art Gallery has someone called a keeper, who basically runs the show for the entire gallery. He was arrested three years ago under spouse abuse charges. His wife did not press charges, so he walked out, and he was able to keep his job." Co-workers say he keeps to himself, he's isolated. He's been seen mumbling to himself constantly, and has been known to have severe outbursts under stressful situations."

Charlie furrowed his brow. "And they didn't fire this guy?"

I shrugged. "I guess not."

Danny stood up. "Good work. We'll take this to the warrant director. This information is legitimate to get a warrant for his arrest. We need more proof, though, to get him in jail for good."

"Or to get the death sentence." Valerie added, printing out all of the information. "I'll be right back." She said, grabbing the papers and practically sprinting off towards the Warrant Director's office.

* * *

I sat in one of the FBI's undercover vans with Valerie later that day. I looked to her nervously, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing hold of the headset. Placing over my head, I saw Valerie do the same. "Danny, Can you hear me?" I asked into the Microphone while looking at the television screen in front of me. Just before they crossed to street to enter the Art gallery we had rigged Tucker and Danny's suit's with microphones and Camera's. 

So, we sat there anxiously in the van that looked like a telephone repair van from the outside, waiting for Danny's reply.

"Roger." I heard, as he leaned down towards tucker's camera.

"Can you see me?"

"Roger. We're clear. Proceed to carry out instructions."

Danny turned to Tucker. "Here we go...This is what make's being an Agent all worth while."

Tucker grinned. "You got that right!"

The two entered the Art Gallery casually, starting to talk about what business was like in the toothpaste industry, sounding nonchalant.

My breath caught in my throat as 'the keeper' came into sight. There was something dark and sinister look in his eyes that made me almost positive it was him.

"Clear. Target is Visualized. Commence with plan A." Valerie said into her headphones.

And the under-cover diversion began.

Tucker let out a shout. "Don't ever say that again, you hear!" He said loudly at almost a yell, pushing Danny backwards. Danny recovered and moved to push him back. "I'll say whatever I want, about you, your wife, or anyone else!" Tucker drew back his arm to throw a punch, and right on schedule, the keeper intervened.

"Woah, Woah guys! Take your fight outside!" He shouted over Danny and Tucker. They turned to him.

"We'll take our fights anywhere we want them!"

Danny slapped Tucker upside the head, even though it was not Necessary. Tucker let out an "Ow!" Before drawing back for another punch.

The keeper, or should I say, Simon, Intervened again. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you two to leave." He said darkly, standing in between them and glaring.

Danny sighed, reaching in his coat pocket and pulling out a badge. "And I'm afraid you're going to have to come with us."

And, from the view of our camera's, he did what every other criminal would do. He ran.

Danny and Tucker bolted after them, while Valerie and I sighed and leaned back in our seats.

"Why do they always have to run?"

He sprinted up the stairway, moving so fast that Danny and Tucker were having trouble getting anywhere near him. Valerie and I watched anxiously through the TV screen, praying silently that they would be able to catch him.

The Keeper threw open the door to the third story corridor, about to make a run for it, but was stopped, as he saw two standard FBI handguns aimed directly between his eyes.

Charlie and Tara to the rescue!

Danny and Tucker finally caught up, and tried to catch their breath, as Tucker pulled out a pair of hand cuffs.

"Nathaniel Holmes. You're under Arrest."

Danny took a deep breath, placing his finger in his ear and speaking into the Microphone on his suit jacket. "We're clear."

Valerie and I were practically jumping up and down in our seats. It was finally over. The Killer was caught.

I stepped out of the van as they led Nathaniel Holmes to the Police Car. He sent me a brief glare, but soon looked away and resumed studying the pavement. I sighed. It was strange, I felt as if I should be more exited...but there was a queer kind of uneasiness inside of me. Something...Something just wasn't right here.

Authors note: So what did you think of that? Hmn? Be honest. I was kind of rushing to finish this before ten, 'cause that's my computer-shut-off curfew or whatever. And look! 9:57. Constructive Criticism welcomed, flames discouraged. I don't like being flamed.

Oh yes. And I have come up with a system. If I get ten or more reviews, I will have an update by September 15. Fifteen or more, I'll have it by September 12th. More reviews, faster comes the update!

It's not over people! There will be one or two more chapters, and an Epilogue. I hope you Enjoyed!

Aiyanabell


	12. The right guy

**Authors note: Hey everyone! I got fifteen reviews! Here's the thing, a lot of you said that last chapter was very anti-climatic, and that it seemed way too easy that Simon was caught like that. Wait, people, wait! I'm not done! I was making it like that on purpose! Okay? Okay. And yes, the somewhat ooc-ness of Sam...I'm sorry people. I really try to channel the character, but sometime's I have to face the facts: I'm an extremely girly, preppy person. And...sometimes that shows through my writing when I let my guard down. But I'll try to fix that. **

**Thank's to all of my reviewers. You are all amazing and I love you all.**

**On with the story**

'_That arrest was way to easy...'_

'_Simon's smart, he couldn't have been caught like that...'_

'_Wait...he was stalking me, right? Shouldn't he know what Danny and Tucker look like? The guy in the art gallery didn't even recognize them...'_

'_Something just isn't right here...'_

"Sam. Sam. Saaaammm. Sam!"

I jumped, being brought out of my revenue of thoughts. "Wha–what?" I replied, disoriented.

Valerie sighed. "I had been calling you for two minutes. Are you feeling okay?"

I nodded my head. "Yeah, I'm fine." I lied, leaning back on the sofa once again.

We were sitting in the living room of our Apartment, with everyone from Unit 145. We were all in a good mood, or...well...they were. After all, we had just caught a serial killer, right?

Danny and Tucker sat down on the couch on either side of me. "Come on Sammmmmm" Tucker whined, putting his arm around me in a friendly manner. "You should be happy! Your troubles are over..."

I smiled weakly. "I am happy, guys. I really am."

This seemed to satisfy no one. Valerie was about to speak up when she was cut off by a knock on the door. "I'll get that." She said.

It was the plumber, coming to fix the broken showerhead. Valerie let them in. He looked much better than the first plumber we hired...he was clean shaven and didn't smell of alcohol and rotten fish.

"The bathroom is right over there, please do what you can." She said, and they nodded, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind them.

Charlie stood up. "How about we go down to the Nasty Burger and get some food? My treat?" He proposed, and upon hearing the last part everyone nodded and stood up. Everyone except me.

"Sam, you want to come?" Danny asked me, and I shook my head.

"No...no. I've got lot's of...lot's of paperwork to fill out, about the case...and I want to get it done." I said solemnly, staring down at my work.

Danny sighed. "Okay Sam. We'll come back afterwards." I sighed. Danny knew there was no way to convince me to come. Stubbornness is one of my charms.

They all turned and left the apartment silently, closing the door behind them.

Of course, I had no actual intent of filling out the paperwork tonight. Instead, I placed the papers down on the coffee table, closed my eyes and buried my face into one of the pillows, exhausted. I think I almost drifted off to sleep, when I was interrupted by a voice.

"Excuse me, miss?" Someone asked, behind me. I turned around. It was one of the plumbers. He had a kind of Boston-Brooklyn accent, which I thought was a bit strange, since we were in Colorado and all. I stood up slowly. "Yeah?"

"Would you mind if you gave me a hand, in the bathroom? I need an extra pair of hands...I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Of course it's not a..." and that was the first time I got a real good look at him. "Problem."

He looked familiar, I don't know how...but I could have sworn I had seen him before. There was something about his eyes. Oh my God. His eyes.

My mind flashed back to two nights ago, when I was being forcefully pressed up against a sheet rock wall, a gloved hand pressed tightly around my neck, and two black, onyx eyes staring darkly into mine as he tied a scarf around my neck.

Instinctively, my hand went to my pocket, where my cell phone was kept. I backed away from him as I attempted to pull it out. I guess that was a mistake, because he soon realized what I was doing, and the next thing I knew I had been flung to the ground, my phone flying out of my hand and landing across the room, hopelessly out of reach.

A cold, clammy hand was pressed over my mouth as I struggled fiercely. My body was being pressed into the ground as his body painfully crushed mine. My scream of pain did not sound through his hand. There was no hope. I was alone.

'_This is it.'_ I thought. _'I'm going to Die'_

Hot tears stung the corners of my eyes as I felt a long silky scarf being tied around my neck once again.

Horrific memories of the dead women in their homes, threatening note's written to me in blood...they all came back and combined with what was going on now, and I thought I was going to pass out and die of fear before Simon even had the chance to kill me.

"This is it Samantha." He whispered to me darkly. The fake accent he used was gone. All I heard now was the dark and evil tone he used whenever he had called on the phone. He was so close I could feel his breath on my skin, and I tried so hard to break free...to no avail.

"You were a good little agent, putting all the clues I laid out for you together, arresting the art fanatic. For a while I didn't think you'd figure it out at all." He had pulled me up roughly to my feet again before slamming me against the wall. I felt my vision darken for a moment upon impact, but it quickly returned.

He pressed me against the wall, one hand over my mouth and the other clutching the end of the scarf he had tied around my neck. The tears were flowing freely now, and I was on the verge of a complete breakdown.

"You're beautiful, Samantha. Yet you had to go and step outside of your place. You deserve to be punished, like all the others. And I will really, really enjoy this."

The scarf suddenly tightened around my neck to the point were I couldn't even make a sound. It hurt...I couldn't breathe. I was being strangled. He was killing me. I was dying. That same thought kept running through my mind over and over until I couldn't think any more. My eyes clouded over and my thoughts grew hazy. I barely registered the sound of a gunshot coming from behind us. I didn't react or respond as Simon fell to the floor before he could finish the job.

All I did was collapse to the floor, falling to my knees and gasping for air. A pair of strong, yet comforting arms wrapped themselves around me, and I went limp into his arms, managing to whisper one word before my mind went completely blank. "Danny..."

-----------

The first thing I saw when I woke up was a white ceiling. I didn't know how long I was out...nor did I ever remember passing out in the first place. Where was I?

Bringing myself to sit up a little I saw that I was lying in a hospital bed. All the members of unit 145 were in the room. Charlie and Tara were asleep in two chairs across the room, Valerie had collapsed on an empty hospital bed next to mine, Tucker was curled up in a ball on the floor, and Danny...

I smiled as I saw Danny, sitting in a chair right next to my bed, fast asleep. He really did look cute when he was sleeping...

The pain had started to settle in, and I let out a little groan. I guess it was a soft enough groan that only Danny, who was sitting close enough to me, heard...and he opened his eyes. He opened his mouth and I knew he was about to shout, and I quickly raised my finger to my lips to silence him. He smiled sheepishly before nodding.

"Sam!" He whispered. "How are you feeling?" I gave him a weak smile.

"I feel much better. Really." I told him honestly. Though deep, deep inside, I was still shaking in fear.

Somehow he seemed to sense this and placed his hand over mine, giving it a comforting squeeze. I smiled softly a moment before looking up at him in confusion.

"Danny...what happened back there? One minute I was...and he was...and then, and then you were...and now I'm..." I couldn't seem to string together the sentence that I want to.

Danny smiled a bit sheepishly as he tried to lighten his words as he said them.

"We had made it outside the apartment building when I remembered I had left my cell phone on your coffee table, so I went back to get it...and then I saw you there with Simon..." He trailed off, not needing to say anymore. Danny had pulled out his gun and had shot Simon in order to save my life.

"Thank you...thank you so much." I whispered. He nodded, leaning over and kissing my forehead. I don't think he thought about doing it until he had, because after that he turned away...and I'm pretty sure it was to hide his bright red cheeks.

"I'm gonna...I'm going to wake up the others." He said sheepishly, clearing his throat.

Danny woke up all of my team members, and they all proceeded to give me hugs and tell me how glad they were that I was going to be okay.

And it was true. I was going to be okay. Aside from a mild concussion from being thrown against the wall, a little bleeding, and some bruising around my neck...I was perfectly fine. They told be I'd be good to go the next morning.

I sighed with relief. It was over. It was finally over.

**Authors note: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I know it was really short and horrible...wwaaaagggh. Writer's block sucks, and so does junior year. I've got so much homework I can't think straight, so I'm sorry if the story is seeming rushed or anything. Bleeeehhh.**

**It's just I'm so exited to start book two! Everyone...be sure to be on the lookout for it. It won't be too long before I post it up. But wait! There is still one more chapter/epilogue to Simon Says! To tell you about how the case worked out and everything! I'll have that up in a few days. **

**Please review...but be merciful, of that I beg. **


	13. Epilogue

**Authors note: Hey peoples! Here is the Epilogue thing, which will tie up all the loose ends of the story. THANK YOU REVIEWERS! YAY REVIEWERS!**

**On with the story.**

It has been three weeks since the arrest of the real Simon. His real name was James Huntington. It turns out he had a record of abuse, robbery, and physical and sexual assault. How this guy was still on the streets, I have no idea. The bullet Danny had shot him with did not hit any bones or critical organs...so he woke up in the hospital three days later. After he is healed he will be transferred to a high security prison, for life with no possibility of parole, and a pending request for the death sentence.

And though I know catching Simon will not bring the lives he has taken back, it justifies their deaths in a small way...to know he will be punished for his crimes and has no way of ever doing it again.

The man we had arrested in the art gallery was in fact the wrong guy. He ran, because he believed the FBI had come to pick him up on abuse charges. It turns out he had been abusing his second wife...just like he had the first. Nathaniel Holmes faces 15 to 20 years in prison without parole.

We also figured out how Simon was able to keep an eye on me. He had an accomplice...who we were able to identify as the first plumber who came to our apartment in the beginning. While Valerie and I went out to lunch he had hidden various well-placed camera's around the house. That's how he was able to see me, even when the blinds were closed.

The Accomplice is also facing many years ahead of him in prison.

It was finally over...we got three guilty men arrested, charged, and convicted. We got a serial killer off the streets, and we finally got our shower fixed.

As for me...I'm still here at the FBI. And although things are quieter and much less...insane...the cases are still as exiting as ever.

Which reminds me...I could tell you about another case that really stuck out in my mind...

**A/N: Yes. I know. Extremely Short. And Sucky. BUT I'M JUST SO ANXIOUS FOR THE SECOND BOOK THAT I RUSHED! OKAY? Seriously. Well...Until book number two. **

**The Fugitive. Coming Soon. **


	14. The Fugitive

**Hello, Again.**

**I know, it has been ages. School has made it impossible to update. I promise you, however...that the first chapter of The Fugitive will be up in the next couple of days...so keep an eye out. Actually...keep TWO eyes out.**

**The 'Unit 145' series is on it's way.**

**The Author,**

**Aiyanabell.**


	15. Authors note on The Fugitive

**Authors note: Just to let you ALL know.**

**The Fugitive, is no longer the Fugitive. I hit a dead end writing this story...and have come up with a new one. **

**Keep your eyes out for: _Missing Persons_**

****

**Kay, thanks!**


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